


The Continuing Voyages of Denny Crane, Starship Captain

by newyorktopaloalto



Category: Boston Legal, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, Humor, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: A man - oddly familiar - replaces Captain Kirk one day. The crew attempts to go about their business as usual.





	The Continuing Voyages of Denny Crane, Starship Captain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/gifts).



> I had _so_ much fun with this! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither Boston Legal nor Star Trek: The Original Series. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!

“Where would the captain be at this moment?”

“Hopefully? With the voluptuous woman I was trying to bang.” The man paused, shrugging. “Most likely though? Sleeping with Alan. Platonic, of course—none of that—” He trailed off.

McCoy shot Spock a look; Spock nodded like the man made any sort of sense.

“Your name, please, Sir?”

The man—looking remarkably like Captain Kirk undoubtedly would thirty or so years in the future—puffed up. “Denny Crane, best lawyer in the glorious US of A.” He looked McCoy and Spock up and down, clearly unimpressed. “What's it to you two bozos?”

* * *

“See? Perfectly sound—it's all the red meat.”

McCoy shrugged at Spock's unspoken question, unable to say anything except, “He is.”

“Is there anything in his medical work indicating a way to get the captain back to _Enterprise_?”

“Not that I was able to scan.”

Denny Crane, now flirting hopelessly with Chapel, seemed to pay no mind to McCoy and Spock conversing openly about him.

“—saved the entire salmon industry, you know?”

Chapel's 'uh-huh' was uninterested. Crane seemed to neither notice nor care about her derision.

"'Sound'?"

"Sound enough," McCoy amended.

Crane laughed uproariously at whatever joke he had made.

* * *

“Put her into fourth, Ensign.”

“Lieutenant,” Sulu reiterated—the third time in ten minutes. “And we don't have 'fourth'.”

Uhura met Sulu's eyes and indicated that she couldn't get a hold of either Spock or McCoy.

Yeoman Rand, then, who obviously had no idea what awaited her, walked onto the bridge with a PADD to be reviewed by Sulu.

“Denny Crane.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Crane,” Rand replied, not batting an eye at his inquiring leer.

“I've replaced the Captain.”

“Yes, Mr. Crane.”

Sulu signed the PADD, wishing he could leave as quickly as Rand had managed to.

* * *

“I'll just say that I'm Captain Kirk. I've been told I'm a handsomer version of him.” 

“Please do not attempt an impersonation of the Captain.” Spock _sounded_ exasperated— something Sulu had hardly believed possible. 

“I could do it, though.” 

“I find that doubtful, Mr. Crane.” 

Crane leaned over Uhura's console to whisper, loudly, in her direction, “He's one of those veggie hippies, isn't he? I can always tell the type.” 

“'Veggie hippie'?”

“You know...” He gestured to Spock inelegantly. “A democrat.” 

“I am a Vulcan, Mr. Crane.” 

“Doesn't make you not a democrat.” 

Spock sighed—Sulu understood whole-heartedly. “I suppose.”

* * *

“There is one thing I miss about Earth.” 

McCoy looked over to where Crane was looking out of the observatory view-port. 

“What's that?” he asked belatedly, realizing Crane wouldn't expound until McCoy answered. 

“Cigars and scotch on the balcony with Alan.” 

Crane sounded wistful as he looked out at the galaxy spread before him; McCoy was duly surprised at the emotional candor. 

“The broads were a lot less uptight there, too—they pretended not to be floozies, but _I_ knew the truth.” 

That was more like the man. 

“We'll get you back,” McCoy promised, not at all for Crane's benefit.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo


End file.
